


it's been a long, long time

by dracvla



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Children of Earth Compliant, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Harkness is the Face of Boe, Mentioned Rose Tyler, Non-Canonical Character Death, Post-Episode: s03e05 Children Of Earth - Day 5, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 22:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracvla/pseuds/dracvla
Summary: If Jack wasn't already in desperate need of a break after saving the world from a child eating alien and a lone cyberman, he definitely was once the Doctor happened to stop by, entangling them both in a scheme for power and control on a planet that is way too fucking French. Oh, and, the Fam is gone. One emotionally repressed Time Lord with a side of immortal who just wants a nap coming right up.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Jack Harkness
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. the beginning and the end

**Author's Note:**

> went through a bit of a 40s post-war jazz phase and couldn't get it out of my head how much these lyrics fit jack and the doctor. i warped the timeline to fit the narrative but it shouldn't be too confusing! 
> 
> major character death warning is for yaz and ianto (explored through flashbacks and such).

_New New York, 5,000,000,053_

The gentle buzzing of the various electronical devices lining the wall behind him filled the silence as he waited for Novice Hame to return. She had promised to only nip away for a few minutes; his guardian rarely left his side for long, these days. He took another laboured breath and thought, not for the first time in a while, what a relief death would finally be. However much the idea calmed him, he knew there was still work to be done. His doctor was due to make a visit, after all.

Minutes, or perhaps seconds -- time had stopped making sense much as he neared his end -- later, a familiar noise reverberated through the dark room, adding to the constant background buzz. It was gone a moment later, revealing that old police box he had come to know so well, once upon a time. A blonde woman ambled out as the wooden doors opened, moving as if of their own accord. Everything felt so familiar. It felt like home. _Home_ … yes, that was a good thought. The word had lost most of its meaning throughout the countless millennia but that blue box and the mad man inside it always felt like home. 

Its current resident madman was making her way towards him, stepping on one of the room’s unfortunate rotted skeletons as she did. She promptly apologised to the corpse -- the way only madmen do -- and continued towards him. To him, she looked as if she held the stars in her eyes as she came to say goodbye.

The Doctor crouching in front of his glass cage at last, he reached out to her mind, _“I was not expecting this version of you to come watch me die. What brings you?”_

 _“Can’t I wish an old friend farewell?”_ she replied. The stars in her eyes twinkled.

He drew in another staggered, painful breath. How much longer had he left? “ _Please, speak. I have not heard that voice in far too long.”_

His Doctor smiled. “Alright,” she said, “A dying man’s wish. Although there are better wishes than having this ol’ chatterbox blab on.” 

_“None that I could think of. Thank you, Doctor.”_

“Haven’t done anything worth thanking.”

Another painful breath. A single tear slid down her cheek. _“Your presence is worth missing out on the light of a hundred suns. A day with you brings more comfort than living a thousand ordinary lives. Believe me, Doctor, I could never thank you enough.”_ She lay one hand on his glass support, touched her forehead against it, sighed. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realise.”

He grunted. _“Worry not. You stand at my deathbed and I could not be more content.”_

The Doctor looked up at him, bleary-eyed and effortlessly handsome as ever. She was always far too humble, never quite recognising how many lives she touched in that distinctive, Doctorish way. Even now she looked as if she wanted to protest; to argue that there was so much more to live for than a lone Time Lord and her ship. But they hadn’t the time to continue the age-old argument. Funny thing, time was. Both of them had enough of it to drive them insane yet here they were, fighting for a few more minutes.

“I’ll have to leave, soon. The other me is wandering about here, somewhere; can’t have me running into myself and causing the whole universe to implode,” she chuckled half-heartedly. It fell flat. The Doctor raised her head and took her hand off the glass. Almost immediately he struggled for breath again, grunting as she snorted. “Ever so subtle. Always craved touch, you.” 

Had he still a heart in its cage, it would have jumped at the way she said those words. So gentle, so kind... _“Doctor.”_

“Yes?”

_“Go to him.”_

“If you insist,” the Doctor sighed. She slowly got to her feet, knees popping as she did. How long had she been sitting there, unwilling to leave him? Alas, all things must end eventually. “After all this time, you still confuse me. Lots of things confuse me, you know. Prejudice, Pop-Tarts, high-heeled shoes…” she chuckled softly. “But you’re the most confusing of them all. You’re so _wise_ , wiser than I’ve ever been.” The Doctor looked down at her feet. “I’d ask for advice on how to be better but you’re too wise to tell me, aren’t you? The Face of Boe, saviour of New New York.”

She grinned at him, a bright, cheeky, honest grin. _Oh, have mercy on me._ “Suppose I better get going, then. I am technically coming back to you twice anyways. Isn’t that proper confusing? Sorry, rambling again. It’s a habit.” 

_“Go to him,”_ he repeated. _“Dance with him. Thank you for coming, Doctor. For helping an old soul rest at peace.”_

So she dropped down to her knees again, left a faint kiss on his glass support, whispered, “Farewell, old friend,” and then she was gone. The doors of the TARDIS closed behind her and he was once again left alone with only the gentle drone of the computers for company.

A figure stepped out of the shadows of the room a few moments later: Novice Hame had returned. The feline appeared slightly embarrassed as she spoke. “Apologies for eavesdropping, although I only heard half of the conversation. Is she a friend? You seemed more than happy to see her.”

He grunted in a way that would have sounded like laughter to anyone who knew him well enough to tell. _“She is more than a friend. Would you mind paying the Doctor a visit, dear Hame? It is time to impart my final secret.”_


	2. to his execution

_ Le Mauvais Loup, Gallea, March 2010 _

Jack downed another shot of hypervodka and slammed the shot glass down on the bar. Klyh’ua, the perky bartender he’d been trying to seduce all night to little avail, came up to him and poured him another shot. “Shouldn’t you be taking it easy on the hypervodka,  _ mon ami _ ? Slow and steady wins the race, as they say.” She spoke with a subtly-French accent, her forked green tongue darting around in her mouth.

“Oh, I can show you slow and steady,” Jack winked at her. “I could also do fast and wild if that’s what you’re into.” Klyh’ua just laughed and turned to tend to the bar’s other customers. Most of them had lavender skin, covered in ridges from head to toe. They were in the  _ Peth-A _ galaxy, hundreds of billions of kilometres away from Earth, yet everything on Gallea was inspired by the French. The food, the local slang, the wine, you name it. The Galleans even cursed like Frenchmen. 

It was rather ironic: Jack had boarded the cold fusion freighter with the sole intent of leaving Earth behind for good. Almost immediately he had run into trouble with the Cybermen again. After sorting out that mess, Jack had boarded another intergalactic ship and vowed to lay low for a while. Now it seemed the universe was mocking him, setting him down on a planet so close to home. 

The bar was a local setting, not common to tourists. Jack had only found it by stumbling into the first place with a promise of alcohol that he saw once teleporting off the ship. The music was a quiet affair and none of the bar’s patrons seemed in any sort of hurry to start a fight. Jack sighed. Where was the excitement when you really needed it? 

About an hour later, Jack considered leaving the bar for the third or fourth time. Klyh’ua had eyed him with a mixture of pity and disgust when she had poured him his nth shot of hypervodka, probably writing him off as another bum looking for an easy lay. It wasn’t far from the truth though, was it? He  _ was _ a bum, running away from his problems. The fifth time he thought about leaving, Jack realised he wouldn’t know where to go.  _ Well, that about settles it.  _ He called over Klyh’ua and ordered another shot. 

Jack sat there for a long while, moving his empty glass between his fingers. He was considering chatting up the man who had been sending him looks from across the bar when someone sat down on a stool next to him. She was clearly an off-worlder, dressed in Earthian garments. Most likely human, Jack figured.  _ Great. Another reminder of home.  _

The woman sighed, looked at Jack. “What, are you not going to introduce yourself?” she asked. 

Jack set the shot glass down and properly looked at the woman, assessing her as he did.  _ Blonde. Green eyes. Wearing suspenders? Gorgeous.  _ “Captain Jack Harkness. Who are you?” 

The newcomer scoffed, “You know, that’s the first time I’ve heard you say your name without the express intent of hitting on someone. Should I feel insulted?”

_ No… She can’t be. Although, they did say that he’s a woman now…  _ Jack took a stab in the dark, hoping against hope. “Doctor?” he asked.

“Yup. That’s me,” the alien in question replied. 

_ Oh, I can definitely work with this.  _ Jack grinned and moved to embrace the Doctor, both still seated on their stools. He started questioning her as soon as he let the Doctor go, smile still wide on his face. “So, did you sort out the Lone Cyberman? Where’s the team? Have you come to thank your brave hero for saving the day?” When she didn’t respond for too many moments, Jack’s grin fell. “How long has it been for you, Doc?” he asked softly.

The look she gave Jack was suddenly fire and ice, full of regret and sorrow and that rage which the first Doctor he’d met --  _ my Doctor  _ \-- had always carried around with him. This Doctor looked as if she wanted to curse the universe, to clench her fists and scream out ’No!’ until it fell to its knees and apologised for its wrongdoings. He’d seen the Time Lord this way before, too much pain behind their eyes, driven numb by loss. In fact, Jack could pinpoint the moment in which the woman sat beside him turned numb: her shoulders slumped as she decided arguing with the universe was a pointless affair. The fire flickered out and the ice thawed to a dismal puddle and Jack Harkness found himself face-to-face with five and a half feet of exhausted Time Lord. “A year, Jack. It’s been a year since the Lone Cyberman in my linear timeline,” the Doctor said, “although it can’t have been more than a month for you.” 

Jack caught the subtle attempt to shift the subject of the conversation back to him, but decided to take the bait rather than arguing.  _ Whatever she’s been through has her falling apart at the seams. What the hell happened to her?  _ he thought. Then he explained that it had only been three days for him since he had sent the warning of the rogue Cyberman to the Doctor’s team, tied up some loose ends, and boarded the first method of transport he could find to leave Earth matters behind for good. He received a scowl from the woman as he described snatching the teleport bracelet (now unfortunately defunct after its rather impressive combustion) which had ended him up on Gallea.  _ “What?” _ he argued, “I wanted to get as far away from Earth as possible. A transport freighter will only get you so far! How did you find me, anyway?”

“Oh, the old girl practically led me to you,” the Doctor sighed. “Guess she got tired of my sulking and figured you’d be able to help me out of my funk. You know, she pretty much kicked me out so it’s not my fault I’m here.”

“Doc, you wound me! And here I was, thinking you’d come just because you missed me.” Jack held a hand to his heart in mock hurt and grinned. “Still doesn’t explain how you found me, though. Gallea is huge. And  _ very  _ French,” he added.

The Doctor smiled at Jack genuinely for the first time that night. “Well, that’s rather the point, isn’t it?” she stated more than asked. “French. Didn’t you see the name of the bar?” When Jack shook his head to indicate that he hadn’t, she explained: “ _ Le mauvais loup.  _ Ringin’ any bells?” The Doctor smirked when his face lit up with realisation. “She’s looking after us, even now.” 

“Didn’t know you could be such a romantic,” Jack said. Recalling their former companion always hurt him, but in a good way. It was one of those things which reminded Jack of his humanity.  _ I reckon the Doctor needs a bit of that sometimes, as well.  _ The Doctor had both her hands resting on the bar so Jack covered the one closest to him with his own. “That settles it, Doc. We have to catch up -- our lady commands it!” 

They both laughed. It felt good to be so close again; to forget about their problems, even if only for a moment --  _ especially when she’s this gorgeous! Big Ears was a sexy beast and the last one was carved like Adonis but this Doctor is so innocently  _ beautiful.  _ Like she doesn’t even know it. _

“Stop it,” the Doctor groaned. She motioned towards their hands on the bar top. “Telepathic by touch, remember?”

He flashed her his signature Harkness smirk, showing how little he was sorry. “So, I would invite you to my place for catching up over a drink as we watch the sunset, but the problem is I haven’t actually got a place here.”

“Is this your way of suggesting I invite you to the TARDIS?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

  
  


*

  
  


“I swear, I parked her right here!” The Doctor looked around in confusion. “Right next to that pebble!”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at the sight:  _ Leave it to the Doctor to get into trouble wherever he or she lands.  _ Only a few minutes ago they were navigating through Gallea’s countless, maze-like alleyways, joking and recalling previous adventures on the way. It had felt familiar, yet entirely strange and new. 

Now the Doctor looked like she had been kicked. “The old girl is  _ not _ going to appreciate me losing her again,” she groaned. She was pacing round the spot where she claimed she had set the TARDIS down last, muttering something about a malfunctioning intruder alarm as she did. 

It hurt, Jack realised, to see the Time Lord so distraught. He wondered how she had lost the TARDIS the last time, and was about to ask for that story when Jack felt something hit the back of his head.  _ Oh, for Heaven’s sake,  _ was his last thought before he promptly passed out. 

  
  


*

  
  


When Jack came to, he found himself in a room which looked entirely too much like a prison cell. He was up on his feet in an instant, checking for a possible escape. The concrete walls seemed unbreakable and the door held no promise of being opened from the inside, so Jack tried pounding it. 

A soft spoke up behind him. “It’s no use. Whoever kidnapped us took my sonic so I doubt they’re brainless enough to just let us waltz right on out,” the Doctor sighed.  _ She seems to do an awful lot of sighing these days. _ Jack stopped his pounding and turned around to face his old friend. “You know, normally I wouldn’t mind being locked up with a gorgeous Time Lord with time to kill, but I really wasn’t kidding about needing a break from saving the world.” He sat down across from her. The ground was stone cold. 

The Doctor stared at him as if she was trying to gaze into his soul.  _ And I’d let her, too, any day.  _ “Why are you so desperate to leave your life on Earth behind, Jack? I’ve never seen the great Captain Jack Harkness run away from anything.” 

“If an alien virus killed people you loved and then forced you to murder your own kin, you’d run away too,” Jack said blankly, staring back. 

“I’m sorry.”

Jack tried to regulate his tone, in an attempt to keep the anger out of his voice. “Why weren’t you there? Big alien threat, the lives of millions of children at stake. You must have known, Doctor. Why didn’t you help?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “but it’s one of those fixed points.”

“Time can be changed,” Jack challenged. “The past can be rewritten, it  _ has been _ rewritten before.” 

The Doctor shook her head. “Doesn’t work like that. It’s too big of an event to be changed. You said so yourself: millions of lives at stake. I really am sorry, Jack, I really am.” For a few moments, Jack felt as if he wanted to shout at her, to boil over and explode like one Gallea's purple volcanoes. _Surely she could have done something?!_ _She could have saved even one person. Probably not Steven. But maybe-_

“Jack. Look at me.” He did. It was like he was left with no choice when the Doctor wanted something from him. 

“You look like a person who's recently lost someone. Rassilon knows you and I lose people far too often to ever be okay with it,” she said. Jack concentrated on her, unsure where she was heading but interested nonetheless. “But we're fighters, Jack. You and me. We go on because we have to. The world doesn't stop spinning on its axis just because we drew the short straw again. Another day rises and we're still just two tiny travellers in a great big universe, saving others because no-one can save us.” The Doctor drew a breath and looked at her companion, patiently waiting for him to speak. 

“And what about when we fail? When others die and we're left alive at the end of the day to carry the guilt?” Jack snarled, “It's a handful of short straws, never a happy ending.” 

“I know,” she sighed again and fidgeted on the stone floor. "But we have to keep trying. We do it  _ for _ everyone we've lost.” The Doctor cast her eyes to the floor and investigated a few rocks that were lying around. She licked one and recoiled, scrunching her nose. “Not real stone. I suspect tempered Carbonium alloy with a perception filter to look like stone. Nasty stuff, that is. Whoever locked us in here really doesn’t want us getting out prematurely.”

“We’ll find a way out. We always do.”

The Doctor offered him a fake smile. “Yeah. Always do.”

They stayed in companionable silence for half an hour, give or take. Jack sat watching the Doctor shift around their cramped space, rapping on the walls and sniffing this and licking that. Each time she turned to look at Jack, catching his gaze, he readied himself to say what was on his mind but he couldn’t bear to break the silence. 

The next time the Doctor turned in Jack’s direction he couldn’t take it anymore. “Say, we never did get that dance,” he finally said, trying not to sound too awkward.  _ This is stupid. Why would she care? _

The Doctor stopped pacing and fixated on Jack. “What do you mean?” She looked confused. “Prison cell’s hardly the place for dancing. Not enough space. No atmosphere,” the Doctor complained.

“No. I mean. When you first picked me up, back in ‘41.”

His companion’s face brightened with realisation. “Oh, yes. Lovely day that was! Well, not really. The London Blitz wouldn’t be high on my list of lovely adventures. But at least nobody died!” she grinned.

_ She must treasure those days like old keepsakes. God knows we don’t get enough of ‘em.  _ “Yeah, no thanks to me,” Jack sighed.

The Doctor sat down, facing the captain. “That was more than a hundred years ago for you. Keep beating yourself up for it an’ you’ll never learn from an honest mistake.”

Jack gaped at the Doctor. “You don’t blame me?” he asked. 

“ ‘Course I do,” she replied, “but if I had known back then the man you would become, I wouldn’t have been half as mad at you.” The Doctor smiled at him, setting off fireworks in his chest.  _ She seems kinder this time around, like she’s finally learned that there’s more to life than being angry at the universe. I’ll have to ask for lessons.  _

Jack grinned, “Thanks, Doc.”

“What for?” 

“Coming back for me in the end.” 

The Doctor gave him a cheeky grin in return. “Like I said, had no choice.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.” 

“Oh, I will,” the Doctor promised. “But first I have to break us out of prison so Captain Jack Harkness can get his dance.”

The door to their cell slid open with a groan as both of its occupants looked up in shock. A large metal sphere floated into view as Jack and the Doctor sprang to their feet. The sphere had spikes protruding from most of its surface area -- rather like a futuristic porcupine -- apart from a camera lens which was currently pointed at the pair, accompanied with a blinking red light. “I have a funny feeling we won’t need to break out of prison at all,” Jack said. The bot advanced on them until it came to a stop mere metres away from Jack’s face.

_ “The Doctor will come,”  _ a robotic voice announced.

The suspect in question bristled. “And where would that be to?”

_ “To his execution. The Doctor will come.” _

_ His.  _ It took Jack less than two seconds to come up with a solution, assuming that their captors did not know which of them actually was the Doctor. “Lead the way, then,” he said, hoping against all odds his plan would work. He looked back at the real Doctor, giving her his best apologetic smile. He was not about to let another person suffer because of him.

“You can’t do this!” the Doctor exclaimed. Two more spheres identical to the first entered their cell and surrounded Jack. A fourth floated up to the Doctor. “Sorry, darling,” Jack apologised as the bots started leading him out of the cell and into the corridor. “But the Doctor’s gotta go to his execution.”


End file.
